


Stay With Me

by spookyactionatadistance



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, F/M, Female Reader, Hurt/Comfort, No rating yet since I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with this one, but oh boy will there be some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28445007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyactionatadistance/pseuds/spookyactionatadistance
Summary: Reader jumps into the fray of a hunt to help Din out, and things deteriorate from there.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter One - Reader

You knew you should have insisted on bringing your own blaster. Sure, you were still working on your aim, but really one singed ding on the side of the Razor Crest shouldn’t have meant you were banned from firearms permanently. If you’d had your own, you’d at least be able to distract the Tuk'ata currently dragging Din away from your hiding place at speed. He’d lost his own when the trafficked Sith hound lunged at him. You can see him swiping at it with a vibroblade, but the slavering beast’s shaggy hide must be preventing him from making serious headway. You scan the forest floor, hoping to see the glint of metal from Din’s fallen blaster, but no such luck. You wonder for a moment why Din hasn’t just hit the thing with his flamethrower, but you realize the creature’s jaws are clamped down too tightly on that arm.

Shit.

Before you can think better of it, you launch yourself off the small ridge you’d been hiding on, skidding on the leaf litter before taking off at a run. “Hey, big bad! Want an easier snack?” You wave your arms to get its attention, mentally running the numbers on just how quickly Din can get back on his feet and take this thing out. He’s fast, right? And flamethrowers surely have some decent range…? Then the beast turns its glowing red eyes on you and you stop thinking completely. Your frantic thoughts are replaced with one simple imperative: _run_.

Your feet pound the ground, your pulse roaring in your ears (or is that the Tuk’ata?). You can tell it is gaining on you and you take a last, desperate flying leap behind a rocky outcropping. There’s a bright slash of pain to your left thigh, a whistling sound, and a very heavy landing.

You’re still lying face-down, your arms thrown up over your head, when a shadow falls over you. “Am I dead?”

“Not for lack of trying.” Your partner’s deadpan response makes you laugh, and in an only slightly unhinged way. “Can you walk back to the ship?”

You uncurl yourself and look up at him, squinting as the sun glints off his helmet. “If I say no, will you carry me?”

“Well, at least we know you aren’t completely broken.” He offers you a gloved hand up, which you accept. “Come on, _verd'ika_.” You haul yourself up, with his help, but as soon as you’re on your feet, you know something is wrong.

“Din?” Your vision tunnels, going black at the edges while your head swims. You stumble and nearly fall, only stopped by Din’s grip on your arms.

“Y/N, were you hit?” He’s turning you around, all humor replaced by a deadly serious tone you usually associate with his bounty hunting. You try to focus on his hands patting you down, searching for a hidden wound. He grips your face, checking your head for any sign of an injury.

You can feel a thought trying to push its way to the surface. “Is my leg bleeding?”

Din looks down, pushing aside fallen leaves and mud, and swearing when he uncovers a jagged slash which is bleeding freely.

“Oh.” You make the mistake of looking down and you can feel the blood drain from your face. You feel clammy, and slightly unstuck from the present. There’s a tearing sound, and you feel a tight band of pressure around your leg. You try to sit down, and wonder fuzzily if you succeeded when your view of the world tilts madly. It takes you a few seconds to realize that Din has scooped you up in his arms.

“Hold on.”

_Oh good, I do get a ride back_ , you think to yourself, as there’s a whooshing sound and the trees begin flying past you. Din says something to you, but you can’t make sense of it, and your vision goes fully dark.

________________

**Mando'a Translations**

_verd'ika_ \- little soldier, affectionate


	2. Chapter Two - Din

Well, shit. This supposed to be such an easy job. Track the Tuk'ata, stun it, bring it back to its owner. Who, clearly, was an egotistical maniac, trying to keep beasts like that on his compound, but what business was that of Din’s? All he cared about was the fee. Which hardly seemed worth it now, with the creature’s slavering jaws doing their best to rip his arm from its socket, Beskar or no. His vibrobladed knife isn’t making much headway through its bristling pelt, and his options are evaporating. As his helmet clangs against another boulder and Din is starting to think that maybe he should have let his partner bring her blaster along after all, there’s a familiar shout.

“Hey, big bad! Want an easier snack?”

She isn’t. He cranes his neck and confirms that, yes, his _dini'la_ partner is chasing after the Tuk'ata, making as much noise as possible and presenting a much easier target. The beast only pauses for an instant before dropping his armored prize and charging straight at her. Even as Din scrambles to his feet, he knows the damn thing will be out of his flamethrower’s range. He slams the button to release the last of his tiny Whistling Bird missiles and has the space of a too long moment to hope they’ll reach their target in time. His heart in his throat when he sees you leap, the creature a breath behind you, before the Birds slam into it and it crashes to the ground. Din allows himself a moment of thanks before running to check on you after that _jaro_.

___

He finds you still sprawled on the forest floor, breathing hard. He’s concerned about the abrasions on your hands and face from the dive you took, but after exchanging a few wordsyour sense of humor is clearly intact, which means must of you are as well. He releases a sigh too faint for the vocoder to pick up, and offers you his hand. “Come on, _verd'ika_.” You rise to your feet, only to stumble weakly. Din slips his hands under your elbows to steady you. You call out his name, and the sound of your voice, normally so brightbecoming muffled and unsure sends a jolt of worry through him. “Are you alright? Were you hit?” He runs his hands over you, checking from the crown of your head downwards, searching for some hurt he hadn’t seen. His gloved fingers skim down your shoulders, around your back, turning you this way and that for a better look. His mouth goes dry when, after brushing aside some mud and leaf litter, he sees a torrent of blood running down your upper thigh, oozing freely from what look like claw marks. “Shit.” He tilts his head up to see your shocked, drawn face.

“Oh.”

“You’re ok. Just a nick.” Din reassures you (and himself) while he rips off a length of his cloak and pulls it tight against your thigh. He doesn’t like the sweat beading on your skin while you shiver. He cups your face in your hands, trying to assess the extent of the damage. “Y/N, hey. Look at me.”

You give a weak chuckle, your eyes drifting across his T visor, and mumble “how will I know where to look?”

Din pulls you to him as your knees buckle. You need more help than he can give you from just the field medkit. “Hold on, ok? I’m going to get you back to the Crest and everything will be fine. I promise.” He loops an arm under your shoulder and bends to lift you, trying to ignore the dead weight of your slack limbs. He ignites the jetpack and lifts off. 

“Stay with me, _cyare_.”

________________

**Mando'a Translations**

_dini'la_ \- insane

 _jaro_ \- death wish, insane act of reckless stupidity

_cyare - beloved, love_


End file.
